(Wrap My Flesh) In Ivy and in Twine
by MG12CSI16
Summary: His scars appear like stories mapped out on an alabaster canvas and Arthur makes it his personal duty to read each one. Scar fic and established Merlin/Arthur.


Another prompt response to Kweandee who has some really awesome ideas. The prompt was originally supposed to be Arthur/Merlin/Gwaine but I just couldn't seem to work Gwaine in there and still keep the same idea I was going for so I just stuck with Merthur. It's also a lot fluffier than I intended. Seriously I think I choked on it a bit. The ending is kind of sucky too because I couldn't think of a good way to finish it off but I think it works.

Needless to say, I went a bit wild with this one so I'm terribly sorry if it's not what you were hoping for dear!

Title comes from _Below My Feet_ by Mumford and Sons.

* * *

**(Wrap My Flesh) In Ivy and in Twine**

They appear out of nowhere, white and gnarled as they weave themselves across his flesh and Arthur blinks, again and again until he realizes they aren't going away and Merlin is staring at him from across the way with eyes shining so bright with humiliation it nearly hurts to look. His face (as impossible as it seems) pales drastically as Arthur steps forward, bare chested with his jaw slack, eyebrows knit tightly together as his eyes sweep back and forth over every line and bump on Merlin's body.

He feels his stomach churn, the taste of bile on his tongue making his head swim and he runs a hand through his hair, uses the other to gesture at the expanse of Merlin's chest and back and curses silently under his breath.

He pretends Merlin doesn't flinch when he reaches a hand towards him.

"Merlin," he breathes, "what…what happened to you?"

His warlocks eyes darken, bottom lip sucked in between his teeth as he gnaws it nervously. Arthur wonders why he won't look at him, why he won't speak or blink and _dammit Merlin why do you always make everything so difficult._

Arthur tries again, when Merlin is still standing there looking shocked and ready to run, only sending quick glances at the blond to see if he's still staring at the expanse of puckered white and pink flesh that's marking his normally flawless alabaster skin (he is). He keeps his distance this time, watching Merlin relax as he takes a small step backwards but doesn't relent.

If anything, his voice comes out even harsher than the first time.

"_Mer_lin, I'm going to ask you again. What's happened to you, where did all those scars come from all of a sudden?"

He thinks it may be the look in his eyes that makes Merlin soften; the desperate pleading and worry (he's always worried about Merlin) that's radiating itself across the room and taking over the very core of his being because Merlin is standing there shirtless and scared and he's covered in scars.

Arthur thinks he may be sick.

It takes the warlock a long moment, one composed of too many deep breaths and finger nails that dig into his palms where they leave red, crescent shaped whelps (Arthur wonders if those will scar too) before he finally responds in a low, gravelly voice that makes Arthur's heart lurch.

"Don't worry about them Arthur, it's nothing."

Arthur gapes.

"Merlin they are not nothing. They're _everywhere_," he breathes and in the heat of the moment he forgets the whole 'personal space' thing and he reaches out to touch the ragged scar on Merlin's bicep, eyes widening when his lover recoils and his ice blue eyes burn a furious shade of gold.

That's when he finds himself being flung against the wall on the other side of the room, winded and a tiny bit terrified. Then the terror melts into worry because Merlin is staring at him, a look of disgust and horror warping his gorgeous features.

Then he runs.

Arthur watches him grab his shirt and pull it over his head, handkerchief clenched in his fist as his hurried footsteps echo down the halls and Arthur can only sit there and pretend his heart doesn't feel as if someone's just plunged a blade into it.

* * *

He goes straight to Gaius.

His instincts tell him to go find Merlin but Arthur knows (after years of dealing with him) that the best thing to do is to let him cool off. He can count on one hand the number of times Merlin's lashed out with his magic and experience tells him time is the best thing he can give him right now.

That and he'd really like to know what the hell was going on. That was something Gaius was good for, he knows everything that goes on within the walls of the castle and Arthur knows better than anyone of the bond the elderly physician has with Merlin.

He knocks softly on the door before he eases it open, unable to react to the warm smile and greeting Gaius bestows on him. He crosses his arms over his chest, suddenly uncomfortable, and is thankful that the look on his face is enough to tell Gaius that something is wrong. Arthur's not sure he could find the words even if he wanted to.

So instead he waits for Gaius to finish the salve he's mixing up, sitting down on the stool Merlin usually occupies when he's not in Arthur's chambers, and tents his hands beneath his chin. Gaius joins him just a moment later and Arthur can tell he's trying hard to keep a look of worry from staining his face.

"I need to speak with you about Merlin," he says finally, folding his arms over his chest once more, suddenly uncomfortable.

Gaius' face morphs, eyebrows knitting together and Arthur almost smiles (he wouldn't be surprised if the old man thought he was seeking relationship advice) but he doesn't and that alone lets Gaius know this is much more serious than that.

He sighs.

"Has he gotten himself into trouble?"

Arthur's lips twitch at that but he shakes his head, eyes flitting around the room as he struggles to look Gaius in the eye. Part of him wonders if this was a mistake, if he should leave well enough alone and just apologize to Merlin. Another part of him knows that isn't even an option.

"No, well at least I don't think so. We were…engaging in activities earlier and while he was dressing I noticed all these scars appearing over his body. Nasty ones Gaius, much like the ones my knights have received in battle. And when I questioned him of their origins he lashed out and ran, I don't actually know where he is right now but I thought it best to leave him be for a while."

Gaius nods. "Yes, sire, that was probably for the best."

Arthur narrows his eyes a bit, noting the lack of surprise on Gaius' face. If anything he merely looked a bit sad. Then he slowly stands from the table and moves towards his workbench, fingers wrapping around a bottle of viscous, blue salve that he sets down in front of Arthur.

All he can do is stare.

He picks it up after a few seconds, curiosity grabbing hold of him as he twirls the bottle between his fingers and finally looks back at his physician.

"What is it?"

"It's a salve I concocted for Merlin a few years back. It's been enchanted with a spell that wards off the appearance of the scars."

Arthur closes his eyes.

"You're telling me Merlin has had these scars for years and no one knows?"

"Yes sire."

This time it's Arthur's turn to sigh, running his hands through his hair and tugging the ends in frustration because _how in the bloody hell could he be such a dense sod? _All the years Merlin's been by his side in battles, fighting off bandits and facing Morgana more times than Arthur cares to remember and he was under the impression that he escaped without harm _every time_.

He really thinks he's going to be sick.

* * *

Arthur thanks Gaius as he goes, slowly coming to his feet and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, a torrent of emotions and thoughts bombarding him at once. He needs to find Merlin.

He's exactly where Arthur thinks he'll be, sitting on the edge of the castle wall with his legs dangling over the edge, moonlight washing over his face and creating shadows against his defined cheekbones. Wordlessly Arthur approaches him, notes the way his shoulders tense as Arthur slings his own legs over the side and sits down.

A few knights move below them, tiny and distorted from the height and Arthur follows their movements with tired eyes, wishes Merlin would say something and sighs when he doesn't. The air holds a thick tension as they sit there, Merlin's sad eyes closing as a cool breeze wraps around them and a shiver travels through his body. Instinct has Arthur reaching out to pull his thin body towards his own, pausing when he remembers the incident from earlier and pulls his arm back to his side.

He settles for words instead.

"I'm sorry I pushed you earlier, I was worried."

Merlin's voice is soft. "I know."

"I was surprised I guess. I thought maybe I was crazy and imagining them but there were too many."

He pauses shortly before he looks over at Merlin who doesn't say anything and his voice drops to a scared whisper. "I went to Gaius."

Arthur supposes he was expecting a different reaction, one of anger maybe or surprise and irritation but Merlin simply sighs and scoots just a little closer to Arthur. "Did he tell you about them?"

"No, he just showed me the salve and told me about the spell. I want to hear the rest from _you_ Merlin."

It seems like a thousand emotions are suddenly visible on his warlocks face, coloring him an unexplainable shade of melancholy as his shoulders suddenly sag and Arthur actually sees him give up the fight. He turns sad blue eyes in the direction of the king.

"The day I stepped into Camelot and every day since I've used my magic to protect you. Saving your life is second nature to me, it's my destiny. But sometimes...sometimes I don't let you see the whole truth. These scars…they're from years of wars and fighting at you side, from things you don't even know about."

He must have caught the look on the blonde's face because he narrows his eyes and adds,

"And don't give me that look because this is not your fault. The only place I'd rather be is at your side and you know it."

Arthur snaps his head up at that, mouth slightly agape as guilt seeps into his chest and constricts him with a force so great he nearly forgets how to breathe. He drops his head on Merlin's shoulder, breathing in his scent and wanting nothing more than to wrap him in his embrace and wish it all away.

"Why do you keep them hidden?" he finally asks, voice muffled by the red handkerchief that's once again found its place around his lovers neck.

Merlin shifts uncomfortably beneath them, something akin to a chuckle escaping his lips only this one is void of humor. It's much too dark for Arthur's taste (much too dark to come from Merlin).

"I'm already enough of a freak as it is Arthur. I don't want people to look at me in disgust, because when my scars are visible that's what I am."

Tears well in his eyes now, cutting Arthur's heart to shreds as he wipes them away with the pad of his thumb and kisses the salty wet paths that lead down his cheek. He cups Merlin's cheek in his hand, turning his strikingly pale face towards him as their foreheads rest against each other and warm breath bounces off their cheeks.

"Merlin, you are _not _vile or disgusting or any of the other ridiculous things you can of. Your scars are reminders of all the things you've done; for me, for Camelot, for the people. And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that all of this has happened to you."

The last words are a broken whisper as they fall from his numb lips, sailing away with the wind as Merlin burrows into his side and long fingers curl around his shirt in desperation. Arthur wonders if anyone's spotted them yet, sky high above everyone else as they tangle around each other and Arthur pretends he doesn't feel Merlin shaking against his chest as his fingers dig into his flesh.

Arthur doesn't move until Merlin pulls away, rubbing at his eyes and gifting the blond with a small smile. Arthur feels the weight lift from his shoulders at the sight although he knows they've only begun to scratch the surface. Despite knowing of Merlin's magic and allowing himself to act on the feelings he had once hidden there was still so much he didn't know, things he knew he wouldn't begin to fathom and the desire to discern them all was nearly overwhelming.

He just hopes they have enough time.

* * *

He's not surprised when Merlin follows him to his chambers, collapsing onto the bed as Arthur moves to his wardrobe and strips himself of his clothes before coming over and sliding into bed beside him. Merlin lies on his back, staring at the ceiling and pressing himself into Arthur's side once more.

Merlin's shirt was still on but Arthur could see some of the more prominent scars that peeked out from beneath the fabric, eyes tracing them until they disappeared once more. Slowly Arthur reaches out, fingers gripping the hem of the garment as his eyes sought out Merlin, asking the silent question he can't seem to bring himself to ask aloud.

He's surprised when Merlin nods, situating himself and allowing Arthur to pull the shirt over his head, revealing the marked skin beneath. For a moment Arthur just stares, taking in every line and bump, taking note of the shape and size of each one before he finally reaches out a shaky hand and traces his fingers across the puckered white flesh.

Merlin shivers beneath his touch but never speaks, staring ahead as Arthur explores him. In his haste to know every inch of his warlock Arthur sits up and gently straddles Merlin, relishing the surprised gasp as he situates himself across his hips.

He starts at his chest, jagged lines carved into the flesh and he leans down to kiss each of them, lingering on the one that stands out most. It's long, stretching from his sternum to his right shoulder, and he can't stop the question from throwing itself towards Merlin as his breath ghosts across his skin.

"Where did this one come from?"

Merlin's hand comes up and touches the injury, eyes closed in thought as if it were a chore to remember (than Arthur realizes there are so many scars that it actually might be the truth) before he lets out a breath.

"Bandit attack. You were busy helping Sir Leon and I didn't realize one was coming up beside me. He caught me with his blade but I managed to heal myself before you or any of the other knights noticed."

Arthur swallows thickly as he listens to Merlin, hands running over his flesh, notices the way he arches into the touch and leans down to capture his lips between his own. A hand fists in his hair as another settles on his hip, tongues clashing and teeth nipping at soft lips before Arthur has to pull away.

There was a time for that, but he knew it wasn't now.

He finishes exploring the front of Merlin's body, occasionally questioning the origins of some of the healed wounds. He's surprised that Merlin is so forthcoming, sharing the details of each incident as Arthur kisses and caresses his body because _god Merlin, you are so beautiful._

Eventually he coaxes Merlin onto his back, arms folded beneath his head as Arthur's eyes are instantly drawn to a definitive shape on his lower back. He eyes it with suspicion and when his fingers touch the spot Merlin speaks without the need for Arthur to utter a word.

"It's a serket sting. Morgause wanted me out of the way after I found out about the plan to kill Uther."

Arthur breathes, lungs burning with the effort because each story just seems to make him angrier. He should have been able to protect Merlin, even when his job was to protect the once and future king he never seemed to worry about himself. The thought makes Arthur's stomach clench a bit.

A few more scars stand out as he kisses every inch of Merlin's body, hands marking and claiming his lover even though he knows no one would _dare _lay a hand on him. There's one on his thigh ("wrestling with Will when we were kids, I lost my footing and fell on some rocks"), some mark his wrists ("handcuffs, they really should make them out of something softer."), others are scattered and Arthur wants to know every story but he can see the exhaustion on Merlin's face and he knows he's already been given more than he deserves.

He can wait.

He eases himself down beside Merlin when he's finished, running a hand through raven locks as he blinks sleepily at him and Arthur leans forward to take Merlin's lips again and he breathes a "quiet thank you" into his mouth. When Merlin pulls away he looks puzzled, his ice cold feet pressing against Arthur's legs and making him jump.

"What're you thanking me for?" he asks lazily.

"For telling me," Arthur says, "you didn't have to but I'm very glad you did."

Merlin simply shrugs. "I'd do anything for you Arthur, you know that."

Yes, he did. He knew damn well just how far Merlin would go for him. It had taken some time to figure it out but he knew now and the thought caused unexplainable warmth to blossom within him. And now, as Merlin nestles deeper in the sheets, rhythmic breathing echoing in his ears, Arthur realizes just how lucky he is.


End file.
